


Rock Salt 101

by alexjanna91



Series: Adventures in Babysitting (Apple Pie Life) [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, BAMF Dean Winchester, Gen, Kid Fic, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjanna91/pseuds/alexjanna91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was crazy, totally certifiable, but Dean was determined to teach his kids how to protect themselves even if it killed him. Which, unfortunately, it actually might.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Salt 101

*

Lisa would be lying if she said she hadn’t once regretted the decision to open her home to Dean Winchester. It had been glaringly obvious that he was grieving, but what had snuck up on her was just how broken he was. The sex was still great, of course. She suspected that you could hogtie him, glue his mouth shut and he would still rock your world. 

Regardless of his prowess in the bedroom, it was hard to ignore the rough edges and the haunted look in his eyes. Perhaps not impossibly hard since Dean was a ridiculously, genuinely good man. Plus her gratitude to him for saving Ben and her from a mythological monster -that wasn’t supposed to even exist, by the way- was enough of a reason to at least give him a safe harbor until he decided to move on. 

Still, keeping in mind her resolve to weather the storm that was a devastatingly grieving Winchester, Lisa hadn’t signed up for being shocked awake in the middle of night by screaming night terrors, or having to tiptoe around what was surely the worst case of PTSD known to man. The last straw was waking up to the man she was sharing a bed with holding an enormous knife to her throat, his hand rock steady while he stared down at her. His frighteningly blank gaze was twice as scary as the razor sharp blade pressed to her skin. 

When he came back to himself and retreated to the couch (and the bottle) for the rest of the night, Lisa hadn’t even had to say anything. He just looked at her with exhausted defeated eyes the next morning and said, “This isn’t working.” 

He was right. It was dangerous to share a bed with shell-shocked solder, but nearly suicidal to share one with a traumatized monster hunter. 

Despite her brush with death, Lisa couldn’t just toss him out on his ass. He was amazingly good with Ben and it was guiltily obvious that her son had been craving a male figure in his life. Dean may have been a light breeze away from crumbling entirely, but the light in his eyes and the gentle attentive demeanor he had when interacting with Ben was all the excuse she needed to let him set down stakes in her guest room for the foreseeable future. 

She could handle Dean Winchester and all the accompanying baggage. She could handle his new career as a manny, and the fact that her house was in continuous disarray from a veritable army of children traipsing through. She handled being a single mother, starting her own yoga studio, and paying her bills and mortgage without assistance. She could even handle the fact that Sunday has now been relegated to the only day Dean gets stinking drunk when he locks himself away in his room. She was a capable and independent woman. 

However, she had to draw the line somewhere and letting her house become some sort of training school for mini-hunters was where she put the stick in the sand and prepared to drag it across.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was about as movable as a mountain and just as stubborn. He was the kind of obstinate that would just snap the stick in two and march right over the line.

Lisa had protested and yelled and refused and argued until she was blue in the face. She wouldn’t expose more children to that knowledge. She wouldn’t let him endanger them like that. She absolutely refused, there was nothing to discuss. She was putting her foot down.

Dean was silent and stoic while patiently waiting for her to trail off and finally fall quiet. 

“Do you know how many kids’ dead bodies I’ve seen in my life?” He asked her after a tense pause. “Hundreds.” He said. “I have smelled the rot on their corpses, found their mutilated half eaten bodies, and burned their bones. I still hear the screams of the ones I couldn’t save in my dreams.”

Staring her down with those hard, haunted eyes, he ignored the horrified look on Lisa’s face. “I will not sit by and watch my kids become faces in my nightmares. I will protect them one way or another. Your agreement is a formality, not a requirement.”

What could she say to that? The answer: nothing. Absolutely nothing, because Dean Winchester was a force of nature when he was indulging a whim; when he was deadly, terrifyingly “difference between life and death” serious you had a greater chance of reversing the Earth’s rotation than you did of stopping him.

Lisa remained silent, feeling shaken and sick in her heart and her stomach. Jaw clenched and throat tight she turned around and left the room. She hadn’t wanted a deeper look into Dean’s life. She hadn’t wanted more than her vague understanding of the evil he fought. The reason she had never asked him about his job was the darkness that hung around him like a storm cloud. He had given her a small glimpse into the abyss; she hadn’t wanted it, but she knew it would stay with her forever.

*

Dean was nodding his head, _Am I Evil?_ by Metallica playing in his head while he fold his clothes with military precision. He hadn’t realized he’d lapsed into the basic training his father had forced on him and Sam until it was too late. Making his bed with sharp military corners, putting away his uniformly folded clothes in neat rows; organizing his collection of loose change, receipts, and pocket lint on his dresser. By the time he noticed he was doing it he figured it was too much work to fight it and it was all going to get messy again next time his relaxed attitude toward cleanliness overcame his training.

He was absorbed in his task, but still noticed Ben standing in the doorway. He didn’t let on that he knew he kid was there letting him work up the courage to say whatever was on his mind.

Finally, he quietly called Dean’s name. 

Looking up from folding his boxers (seriously, his old man had been thorough in his training), Dean gave him smile. “What’s up, dude?”

“Nothing.” Ben replied with a shrug totally failing at trying to look casual.

Dean raised an eyebrow at him and Ben blushed before stepping all the way into the room flopping down on the bed. 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” Dean said.

“It’s just…”

“Just what?” Dean pressed, leading him to get it out. 

He fidgeted, staring at his hands and tugging at a loose thread on his jeans. Finally, Ben looked up at Dean and asked, “Is it true that you’re going to teach us how to hunt?”

Dean remained silent for a second, rubbing at the back of his neck thinking. “How do you know about that?”

The kid looked down guiltily and shrugged. “I hear you and mom fighting yesterday.”

Huffing out a breath, Dean sat down heavily next to Ben. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 

“Well, mom was yelling kind of loud.” Ben gave him a small grin.

Dean smirked back, “Yeah, your mom’s got a pair of lungs on her.”

They were both quiet for a second before Ben asked again. “So, is it true?” 

“I’m not going to teach you how to hunt. I wouldn’t put that on you, but I am going to teach you to defend yourselves.”

“Oh.” He looked back down at his hands and worked on making the hole in his jeans bigger. “Why?”

Blowing out a breath, Dean looked over at him and ducked his head to catch Ben’s eyes. “Do you remember a few weeks ago when those kids went missing?”

He nodded. 

“They were taken by a rawhead, a type of boogieman that eats kids.” Dean explained, his voice was low and serious. “I hunted it down and killed it.”

“You went on a hunt? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ben’s eyes were wide and a little hurt.

“I didn’t tell you because it’s not something to brag about.” Dean said. “Hunting is violent and dangerous and scary. Kids shouldn’t have to know about the things in the dark much less hear stories about them.”

“But I already know about that stuff! That changeling thing kidnapped me and almost killed mom.” The kid reminded him angrily. The thought of Dean treating him like a naïve little kid even when he already knew the truth was beyond frustrating. 

Dean placed a calming hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “And you shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“But I did!” He protested hotly. “If we shouldn’t even know about monsters, then why were you arguing with mom?” Ben demanded. Did Dean think he wasn’t good enough to be a hunter? The idea sent a heavy wave of distress through his chest.

“I was arguing with your mom because I want to teach you and other kids how to protect yourselves. She didn’t want to expose more kids to that, and I won’t teach you how to hunt monsters, but I can’t just leave you as sitting ducks for supernatural fuglies.” Dean explained gravely. “I couldn’t live with myself if any of you died, because I didn’t teach you to protect yourself.”

His words were sobering and Ben stayed quiet thinking. While he did the weight and warmth of Dean’s hand still on his shoulder was reassuring. It made him feel like he was protected; like nothing bad could possibly happen to him while Dean was there. 

Looking up at Dean, Ben stared into his eyes and wished not for the first time that this man was really his dad.

“So, what are you going to teach us? How to put salt in front of the windows and doors and stuff like that?” he asked and accepting the silent promise of protection in Dean’s words. He decided that if he couldn’t learn how to hunt he would have to be happy learning how to defend himself instead. 

Dean gave him a smile of approval that had Ben flushing with pride. “For a start,” Dean nodded, “but there is a lot more to it than that. I want you guys protected from just about anything.” 

Ben began to question him about the future lessons while Dean put him to work helping with the folding. 

Not once did Dean seem impatient or frustrated with Ben’s insatiable curiosity. He answered every question and praised the boy when he made particularly pertinent queries. He gave Ben the attention he craved and the kid positively glowed with it. 

Dean smiled to himself at Bean’s enthusiasm, all the while feeling that familiar ache in his chest at the knowledge that Ben wasn’t actually his son.

*

Detective Jeffery Hart was dubious to say the least. Dean Winchester had called him with a proposition. The man wanted to teach as many kids as he could get his hands on the basics of defense against the supernatural. 

Jeffery had been trying to avoid thinking about the revelations of the reality of the things that go bump in the night. Winchester putting a label to the knowledge, _supernatural_ , had blasted a cannon ball sized hole in his already paper thin denial. He hadn’t even realized there were actual protections against things like ghosts and the boogieman and God knows what else. When he’d questioned it, he had apparently said something very stupid, because when Dean responded there had been a definite subtext of, “Seriously? Are you secretly a moron?”

Despite Jeffery’s misgivings, mourning his loss of ignorance and his regrettably destroyed denial, he figured it was actually a good idea; mostly because there was a horrifyingly large number of monsters and spirits that liked to snack on kids, according to Dean. Due to recent events, namely the Rawhead Incident, the children would more easily believe in the existence of monsters. However, it was an unfortunate truth that unless they experienced it for themselves there was almost no chance that the parents would accept the existence of monsters. 

So, Jeffery made some calls. He painstakingly convinced the traumatized and understandably reluctant parents of the kids taken by the rawhead to leave them alone with two cops and the man that had rescued them for a self-defense class. Thankfully that part was half true, so he didn’t feel too guilty lying about the other part.

After much reassurance, a few suspicious and confrontational interviews with Dean, and Jeffery repeatedly explaining that his partner and he would be there the entire time, the parents finally agreed. 

Jeffery was beyond grateful that he didn’t have to call every single parent of every single kid that would be there. Dean had the kids he looked after and their parents practically eating out the palm of his hand while simultaneously singing his praises. 

He refused to let the class grow much larger than the neighborhood kids and the six kids that had been taken by the rawhead. Dean agreed since anything bigger would attract too much attention and he was still technically on the FBI’s most wanted list. 

The solution to the problem of educating as many kids as possible without the risk of a nosily observant parent getting him arrested was simple. He designed and printed out posters to pin up around the neighborhood and on the community bulletin boards. 

The true purpose for the lessons was hidden with a classic sleight of hand. The poster read:

Kids’ Self-Defense!

Learn How To…

Not Get Snatched!  
Keep Ghosts Away!  
Spot The Bad Guys!  
Dodge Monsters!  
And Kick Total Butt!

To Sign Up Call  
Dean Campbell 555-6275  
or  
Det. Jeffery Hart 555-9812

It was truly ingenious and a little bit scary. If Jeffery had seen that poster in his neighborhood he would have definitely considered signing his kids up. No wonder the FBI had made a special note on Dean’s file that he was an extremely skilled liar and a professional grade con-artist. It was a good thing he only used his powers for good or the world at large would be completely screwed.

Jeffery knew parents would sign up their kids and never give the unobtrusively placed mentions of monsters and ghosts a second thought. They’d chock it up to a gimmicky ploy to pick the kids’ interest and entertain them at the same time. 

Yeah, he was letting a dead criminal teach a bunch of kids how to fight monsters… He must actually be crazy. 

Ashely had told him that straight to his face. Regardless of her doubt in his mental competency she had agreed to oversee the lessons with him. She was still wary of Dean and mildly suspicious of his motives even though she believed that a monster really had taken those kids. Apparently Dean just rubbed her the wrong way. It might be the fact that he keeps calling her sweetheart and completely ignoring her increasingly agitated demands that he cease and desist. 

After the third death threat and he still persisted in calling her that, Jeffery figured out that Dean found the entire thing amusing. If he wanted to risk his life annoying a cop that could shoot the eyes out of a silhouette at the range and put an armed robber nearly twice her size on the ground, he wasn’t going to stop him.

So, they had nervous parents of traumatized kids, amused parents of enthusiastic kids, posters pinned up all over the neighborhood, and two reluctant police detectives to act as chaperones. Everything seemed to be in order. Jeffery just hoped that upcoming lessons weren’t too scarring for them or the kids.

*

Dean looked around the moderately sized activity room at the nearby rec center. Hart had somehow finagled the frighteningly efficient lady in charge of scheduling into giving them the room for two hours three times a week. They had a couple of tables for Dean to lay out the child friendly anti-supernatural paraphernalia, and a large cushioning mat on the floor to one side.

An outline for the lessons had taken more work and input from Ben than he’d anticipated. It was adaptable enough that he could improvise if he decided to while still covering the essentials. Dean had never been so organized or prepared in his life. He almost felt like an actually normal responsible adult. 

Of course as he unpacked the bags of rock salt, jugs of holy water, various iron implements, and anti-possession charms the illusion of normalcy disappeared pretty quickly. 

“When are they gonna be here?” Ben asked nearly bouncing with anticipation. He and Errol had been more enthusiastic than effective in helping with the set up.

Dean was bewildered with just how excited they were. The boys had positively thrown themselves into helping Dean prepare. Ben had drawn some pictures to spice up the poster and offered suggestions for the lesson outline. Errol had helpfully burned up the copier making duplicates of the various wards Dean was going to teach the kids. Dean was actually a little intimidated by how invested the kids were. They were almost as dedicated to the protection of the other kids as Dean was. Ben especially was determined to help teach the other kids how to protect themselves.

The door opened and Dean looked up from his task of dumping all the empty canisters he was going to fill with salt and holy water to send home with the kids. Detectives Hart and Boltz, and Hart’s kids had just walked through the door heading in his direction. 

With a brief nod to the cops, Dean immediately crouched down to Justin and Emily’s level. “Hey guys. How’ve you been doing?”

The kids seemed a little nervous and a little subdued, but Dean got a couple smiles in response to his. “Okay, I guess.” Justin mumbled with a reassuring look up at his father. 

“Dad told us that you’re going to teach us stuff to protect us from monsters.” Emily said with a scared hopeful look. 

“Yeah, I am.” Dean responded gently, but serious. “I’m gonna try to make sure nothing like that happens to you again.”

A determined frown suddenly creased at Justin’s brow and he gave Dean a solemn nod. “Good. I want to learn how to protect Emily.”

Dean’s heart gave an involuntary lurch and he had to swallow past the giant lump in his throat. “That’s good, dude.” He said gravely and strained. “That’s exactly what I’m going to teach you.” He gave them both a smile regaining complete control over his expression. “Both of you.”

After that more kids started showing up. Dean greeted each and every one, some more familiarly than others. The parents of the kids that he'd rescued and the parents of the new kids all looked at him dubiously, but between Hart standing comfortably next to him and his own innate charm, Dean was able to put them at ease. Of course it helped that his kids’ parents all seemed pretty laid back about the class and were obviously friendly with him. 

Errol, Sydney, Clark, Cary, Hugh, Thomas, Nathan, and Melanie were all there. Justin, Emily, Michael, Daniel, Akiko, and Jeremy were there as well; their parents were understandably more cautious and hard to reassure. It helped calm them when each of their kids hurried over to him and gave him clutching hugs and relieved smiles. Kids were always better judges of character than adults and their parents seemed to recognize that. Their children were all happy and relaxed in his presence; it encouraged them to be calm and relaxed around him as well. 

There were a few kids Dean didn't know, but he didn't hesitate to fix that with welcoming smiles and playful banter. 

There was Rachel Dagwood, a sweet, adorably shy eight year old girl. Her parents were polite, smiling and curious. They were obviously comfortable with their daughter going to a "kid friendly" self-defense class. They trusted her safety in a class that was taught by two police officers and a “security consultant”. 

D'Andre Washington, “call me Andre,” was an outgoing eight year old boy that knew Michael and Daniel from junior basketball. His parents had been invited to the class by Mr. and Mrs. Braunston. They were polite extracurricular friends and the four of them chatted pleasantly while their boys ran around meeting the other kids.

Tod was a ten year old boy unfortunate enough to have a full name like Toddington Farnsworth Holmes III. His mother had one of those pretentious designer purses plastered with fancy initials and the obligatory chunky gold neckless, diamond tennis bracelet, and immaculate manicure; his dad wore a designer suit that probably cost more than Dean's car. They both had bland, distantly indulgent smiles on their faces.

The kid, however, seemed happy and just about ready to shake out of his skin in excitement. Dean figured he didn’t take after his parents and wouldn’t be a spoiled, snot-nosed nightmare, so he was happy about that.

One last kid Dean wasn't familiar with came through the door. He and Hart stepped forward to greet the little girl and her mother. The kid's name was Sunflower Capricorn Smith, she was nine years old and she obviously hated it when her mother called her "my darling Flower". Dean felt for the kid; her mom was the very definition of a new age, flower child, tree hugger. She wore Birkenstocks, long flowy skirts, and actually asked Dean if he would be teaching the children the difference between the light and the dark fae. 

"Because the dark faeries really are rather dangerous and shouldn’t be confused with helpful garden sprites." 

Shit you not; quote-unquote. Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his face neutral. "I'll try to fit that in." He said. She nodded, satisfied and gave Sunflower a kiss on the cheek before wandering around the room and airily greeting the other parents. 

Dean stood there, bewildered, for a moment before looking down at the kid. She looked so embarrassed he had to chuckle. She glared at him. 

"Hey, I feel for you, kid." He said raising his hands to pacify her indignation. Crouching down in front of her, he asked, "You got any preference for what I should call you? Or are you good with Sunflower?"

She wrinkled her nose then mumbled hopefully. "I kind of like Sunny. It's not as girly as Sunflower." 

Dean gave her a grin and nodded his head. "I can definitely do that, Sunny." He held out a hand. Sunny gave him a wide, pleased smile, took his hand and gave it a big shake. 

Chuckling, Dean ushered her over to the other kids and tried to ignore the quivering in his stomach that was definitely not nervousness. 

“You ready for this, Campbell?” Hart asked him, still standing at his side and studying the play of emotions across his face. “This is your show.”

Dean took a deep breath, regulated his heartbeat and straightened his shoulders. He clapped his hands together and grinned. “Let’s do this!”

All the kids were seated eagerly on the floor up front and the parents were bunched up at the back of the group waiting for Dean’s spiel about the class before they left for work, errands, or relaxation without their kids for two hours.

“Welcome to Anti-Monster Self-Defense class! My name’s Dean and I’m going teach you how to fight monsters and kick butt.” He began and gave the parents a grin. Most of them actually returned it, amused so far. “There are all kinds of bad guys out there. Some of them are human, and some of them…” he paused for effect then continued in a loud whisper, “some of them are _monsters_.”

The kids all whispered and murmured to each other like buzzing bees in excitement while their parents chuckled behind them. Most of the tension drained out of the room as it became totally _obvious_ that he was catering to the kids’ “imaginations” to capture their attention.

Dean grinned in satisfaction. Accomplishing what he’d set out to do with that speech, he glanced smugly at Hart. The detective shook his head in amazement and Dean’s grin widened, filled with mischievousness. Jeffery once again felt overwhelming relief that Dean was not in fact a serial killer. The thought of all the damage he could do with all that charm and talent for manipulation was too frightening to contemplate. 

“Now, my friends Detective Jeffery Hart, Detective Ashley Boltz, and I have fought lots of monsters.” He gestured at the two cops. Jeffery gave a small wave and Ashley gave a visibly put upon one. “We’re going to teach you how to fight off a kidnapper, keep ghosts and demons away, spot bad guys, and protect against monsters.” He elaborated and pointed to the table covered in the basic essentials of a hunter and gestured over to the mat across the room.

“Detectives Jeffery and Ashley will oversee defense against human monsters.” He explained. “They will be teaching you how to spot bad guys and avoid them, how to escape if someone grabs you, and what you can do to prevent becoming a target. I’ll teach you how to identify monsters, and how to keep ghosts and other creepy crawlies away.”

Dean wrapped up his introduction speech with a few more words to placate the parents that were still watching him dubiously and told the kids to wave bye. The parents had no choice but to leave after being summarily dismissed by their kids and they trickled out after universally embarrassing their kids with departing hugs and kisses. 

Watching the whole thing with a mask of amusement, Dean ruthlessly shoved the envy he felt at witnessing the overt displays of parental affection. John Winchester had been good man who loved his sons with all the power of his soul. But he had not been a demonstrative father.

Once the parents were gone, Dean turned his attention back to the kids and found nineteen pairs of preadolescent eyes fixed expectantly on him. 

“Okay then.” He hedged. Suddenly this whole thing seemed like terrible idea after all. “Let’s divide into two groups of nine and ten.”

The kids didn’t move. They looked at each other communicating silently the way only kids could. 

“Um, Mr. Dean,” one kid, Rachel, finally spoke up. “Are you really going to teach us how to keep monsters away?” She asked looking nervous and a little scared. 

Ashley hissed unhappily, but Dean ignored her. He looked the little girl in the eyes and spoke steady and serious. He preferred to talk to kids as if they were adults. They tended to respond better to that. 

“Did you talk to the other kids about monsters?” He asked her making eye contact with the children he knew hadn’t had previous contact with the supernatural.

Rachel nodded, looking as if she wasn’t sure if she was going to get in trouble or not. He gave her a reassuring smile and she relaxed. 

Justin suddenly spoke up, “We told them about the monster that took us. We told them that you saved us.” 

“I told everyone how you saved me from a changeling that was going to kill my mom.” Ben added with a determined expression.

It was a relief, if he was honest, that he wouldn’t have to struggle through the “truth is out there” speech. Kids for the most part already believed in monsters and since this particular group had varying degrees of firsthand experience it was even easier for them to look past their active imaginations and see the truth. All they needed to truly believe was to hear the stories of kids that didn’t just believe; they knew.

The kids were all looking to him. They all wanted him to say it; to give legitimacy to the stories of their peers. After all, if an adult believed in monsters, believed the stories, then it must really be true. 

“Before I moved here,” he told them, serious and absolutely truthful, “I fought monsters. I drove from town to town following signs and evidence of them. When I figured out which monster was causing all the bad things to happen I would stop it.”

They all listened to him raptly; some with obvious fear in their eyes, some with fascination, and some with haunting knowledge. 

“When I saw on the news that kids were being taken and the police didn’t know how to get them back, I knew a supernatural monster had taken them. With the help of Detective Jeffery and Detective Ashley I figured out what kind of monster it was and where it had taken the kids. I found it and I killed it.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he opened them again, a determined expression on his face. “I don’t want that to happen to any more kids if I can help it. So, I will teach you ways to defend against supernatural threats and because it is equally important, the Detectives will teach you how to defend against human threats.”

The kids were quiet, looking around at each other and whispering low and serious. One minute later Ben stood up. “What are we going to learn today?”

*

Dean looked around the room and exhaled heavily. 

These kids were freakishly fast learners. He was expecting them to completely uncomprehend the philosophy of the purity of salt and iron against incorporeal fuglies, but once he explained it in kid friendly terms, they just nodded seriously and asked if salt worked on invisible monsters too. The kids had taken to practicing making lines and circles with salt like ducks to water. Yeah, a few of them were still a little iffy on straight lines versus squiggly and their circles were more oval than round, but hey, as long as the salt lines were unbroken that’s all that matters. 

Dean also explained that if they didn’t have salt with them or around them and a ghost was close to them iron worked just as good. They went through what was made of iron and were generally easy to get your hands on. Dean showed them examples of fireplace pokers, cast-iron skillets, and other kinds of household tools. He explained that wrought iron fencing was generally used around large areas that salt wouldn’t be able to effectively protect, like houses, yards, and traditional cemeteries.

He didn’t go into the more obscure protections like cats eye shells, goofer dust, or hex bags. Those were advanced even for experienced hunters and equally hard to come by or make. 

On the other side of the room, since she had experience taking on bigger opponents, Ashely was teaching her group of kids how to use their small size to their advantage. She went through ways to escape different kinds of holds and how to use their innate flexibility and quickness to avoid attackers altogether. Jeffery was acting as the bad guy for the kids to practice with. The second half of the hour Ashley and Jeffery instructed them on how to spot the bad guys and identify what kind of predator they were. 

At the end of the first hour they switched groups so all the kids got equal amounts of instruction on both supernatural and human threats. When their parents showed up to take them home all the kids were chattering and even more excited and eager to show off what they’d learned.

Dean had told the kids at the beginning of each hour to keep it a secret that he used to hunt monsters for a living. It might get him in trouble and then he wouldn’t be able to teach them how to protect themselves. They understood completely since their parents still insisted that there weren’t monsters under their beds or in their closets, that it wasn’t possible because monsters weren’t real. 

Dean definitely planned to address the fact that some supernatural freaks actually liked to hide in closets and under beds. The kids seemed especially eager to learn how to avoid those monsters. 

Come Hell or high water, Dean was determined to protect these kids from as many kinds of supernatural threats as he could. 

When the only people left were Hart, Ben, Errol, Justin, and Emily, Dean let out a tired, satisfied sigh and smiled. He’d actually survived two hours of nineteen excitable kids with endless amounts of energy. He’d even gotten paid for it! Fifty bucks a kid per lesson. He would have done it for free, but Hart had pointed out that the class wouldn’t be taken seriously if the parents didn’t have to pay for it. 

“So, we all survived.” Hart said as he came up and stood beside him. “I, for one, am surprised.”

Dean gave him an amused chuckled. “Me too.” 

“And to think; we’re going to do this three times a week for three weeks.”

“Christ. What the hell was I thinking?” Hart let out a laugh at the look of dawning horror on Dean’s face.

After a short pause in conversation, Hart said, “I don’t think Ashley is ever going to forgive you for dragging her into this.”

The look of horror quickly faded giving way to an unconcerned grin. Dean shrugged. “I’m not worried. She’ll forgive me. I’m irresistible and it’s only a matter of time before she succumbs to the Dean.”

Hart rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to resort to butchering lines from Jeff Bridges films, I’m going to go ahead and take my kids home.”

Laughing loud and pleased, Dean nodded to him and extended his hand for a shake. “Thanks for helping out.”

“Despite the dubiousness of teaching a bunch of kids supernatural protection and expecting them to actually them to follow through, I’m glad I decided to help.” Jeffery gripped Dean’s hand firmly. 

Walking away Hart collected his kids from where they were still chattering with Ben and Errol. After smiles and waves they all disappeared out the door. The room fell momentarily quiet.

Ben gave him a smile and leaned against his side. Errol was looking up at him with hesitant admiration. 

“I think it went okay.” Ben said, seeming just as satisfied with their success as Dean. 

Dean gave them both a smile and ruffled their hair amused by their various expressions of annoyance. Both boys completely failed to hide their pleasure at the attention.

Grabbing the bags of supplies for the class, Dean hefted them onto his shoulders, looked back at the boys and nodded toward the door. “Come on, guys. Let’s go home.” 

*

It was the end of Dean’s third class. The lessons had past introduction and pure basics and were now moving onto to the more complex and involved techniques. The human and supernatural lessons were getting more difficult. Both equally enthralled the kids and they didn’t seem to mind putting in the work at all. 

“I’m so glad you’re teaching the kids the difference between the good spirits and the other kinds. It would be such terrible karma to destroy the good kind on accident. Of course I wish there are less violent ways to help the spirits pass on, but unfortunately there isn’t.” The mom said with a serious, regretful frown on her face. 

Unsurprisingly, the only parent that actually believed that her kid was being taught to avoid supernatural creatures was Starlight Virgo Smith, Sunny’s flower child mom.

After every class she liked to commandeer Dean’s attention to tell him just how glad she is that her darling Flower was learning these things. She’d gush all about the good karma he was acquiring and comment on the fact that his aura was positively glowing with it. 

It was hard for Dean to keep a straight face through these conversations. He had to bite his cheek bloody because some of the shit she said was just that ridiculous. It was also hilarious to watch Sunny’s face get redder and redder the longer her mom talked about auras, karma, and other touchy-feely hippy crap like that. 

He started to give Starlight one of those politely agreeing responses he’d learned would satisfy her enough to make her leave. He words stalled out when a flash of something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. 

Turning his head, Dean’s gaze was immediately drawn across the street to the creature watching him intently. 

It was the size of a skyscraper squeezed and shoehorned into this dimension. It was blindingly bright and vaguely humanoid. Dean registered two faces, one blankly human and the other a dolphin; two rotating rings of flame around its arms, and two sets of wings like crashing ocean waves. 

He blinked. A teenager wearing a red and white striped Wiener Hut uniform was watching him curiously. No teenager would be caught dead in that outfit watching people walk around outside a rec center with that much intensity. Dean’s supernatural freak radar went off like an air horn.

Ushering Ms. Smith and Sunny into their car and down the street as quickly as possible, Dean was crossing the street toward the teen twenty seconds later. Surprised by the sudden and impending confrontation, the shock seemed to have rooted the thing to the spot. Strangely it seemed bewildered to realize it wasn’t moving. 

Dean came to a halt in front of the thing and demanded, “Who are you?”

It seemed nervous and flustered to be spoken to. “My name is Samandriel.”

Frowning, Dean had a sinking feeling that he already knew what this thing was. He asked anyway. “What are you?”

It puffed up with a juvenile air of pride and said, “I am an Angel of the Lord.” 

Last time Dean had come in contact with angels -other than Cas, that is- it was two Archangels determined to have a cat fight that would destroy the world. 

His frown didn’t ease and the angel seemed surprised and wary by that. “Why are you watching me?”

The angel shifted awkwardly debating whether or not to answer the question honestly. Apparently he’d decided against it because he said, “I am simply curious about humanity?”

Dean struggled to stay stern; he could feel his lips twitching. Evidently it wasn’t just Cas that couldn’t lie for shit. “Was that a question?”

“No?”

“Holy crap, are all angels this bad at lying?” He burst out his lips quirked in amusement because he just couldn’t help it now. Some of his suspiciousness melted away. There was no way this kid had nefarious plans in mind. He couldn’t even say a lie without a question mark on the end of it.

The angel dressed in a Weiner Hut uniform scowled. “Angels do not lie. We are holy celestial beings. It is against our nature.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, kid,” Dean said, “but I’ve met plenty of angels and most of them were pretty good liars.”

The angel looked saddened by that and Dean almost felt bad for saying it. Almost. 

“It is true that some of my brothers were dishonest and misguided in their attempts to further the Apocalypse, but a good many of us remain loyal to our Father’s greatest creations.” He told Dean and seemed truly regretful and distressed by the way his douchebag siblings had acted. 

He couldn’t really pick on the kid about that, so Dean turned the conversation back on track. 

“So, we’ve established that you aren’t here to satisfy your curiosity about humans. Now, let’s try this again, with the truth this time.” He quirked an expectant eyebrow at the angel and waited patiently. It was obviously debating whether or not he could get away with lying again.

Obviously, the kid decided not to risk it. “Castiel gave me orders to watch over you while he attended to his duties in Heaven.” 

His mind went momentarily blank. The truth of the angel’s words hit him in his chest and suddenly his thoughts were running a mile a minute. 

Why would Cas go to the trouble of coming down to Earth just to watch him invisible girl style. There was no way he would do that and not actually talk to him. 

A second after he thought this, Dean realized that wasn’t true. Cas was nothing if not a loyal friend. If he thought that Dean didn’t want him hanging around he wouldn’t hang around. He wouldn’t even pop in to say hey.

But why would Cas think that Dean didn’t want to see him? Why would he even watch over him it that was true? What could possibly have convinced him that Dean didn’t-…

He had been in the van with them, supposedly sleeping. When Sam had made him promise to live a normal life, Cas must have been listening. Knowing how frustratingly literal he was, Cas must have taken Dean’s promise to heart and an Angel of the Lord zapping up out of nowhere was definitely not apple pie normal. 

Dean sighed and rubbed at his forehead tiredly. He felt frustrated and just a little bit angry. He could have used a friend; he could have used _Cas_ , his best and only friend, around while he was so messed up over Sam that he’d been thinking of ways to just stop living altogether. 

For his sanity, Dean shut down those thoughts, buried that hurt, and continued his interrogation. 

“Alright, so why did Cas order you to watch over me in the first place?” He almost didn’t care about the answer, but he knew he needed all the information he could get. 

The kid gave a stiff shrug. It was just a little off and took longer than a normal shrug. It was kind of adorable. “I was not informed, but Castiel explained that he chose me over my brothers because he knew I would take my duties seriously and that I am especially fascinated with humanity. He thought it would satisfy a measure of my curiosity to observe your species up close.”

He seemed extremely pleased about that and yeah, he really was adorable. Like a clumsy puppy or a wet kitten. You just wanted to pat it on the head and tell it how cute it was.

Dean’s smile broke from his control and he shook his head. It was completely bewildering that an angel could be anything other than a dick with wings or painfully awkward with stalkerish tendencies. Okay, so the kid was actually really awkward and had been following him around for an undetermined amount of time, but still; adorable. 

“How long have you been following me around for anyway?” He asked, this time genuinely curious. 

“Three weeks, five days, sixteen hours, and forty-seven minutes,” was his creepily precise answer. 

“That long, huh?” Dean said mildly impressed. “I haven’t even noticed. That’s pretty good for a baby angel.” 

The kid scowled. “I am a powerful celestial being older than the earth itself. I am not a baby.” He definitely did not seem pleased to be accused of being young.

Dean, however, was highly amused. “Dude, you cannot tell me you aren’t young by angel standards.” He knew that instinctively. “Even I can tell that.” 

Expression melting into one of insecurity and disappointment, the kid said, “My brothers are often underestimating me and assigning older angels the more difficult tasks because they do not believe I would be able to complete them satisfactorily.”

Okay, that was just not cool. Not only had the kid just sent him on a guilt trip, but he’d busted out possibly the most pitiful kicked puppy eyes Dean had ever seen. 

“That sucks, dude. Older brothers are supposed be encouraging, not be complete dicks. They shouldn’t put you down like that.”

The angel gave him a small pleased smile. “Castiel has always been kind to me. It was a great show of confidence when he assigned me a task that he considered of great importance.” 

Dean grinned at that. “Yeah, Cas is a good guy.” 

The kid nodded like it was completely incomprehensible that Cas should be considered anything other than the absolute best. 

Chuckling at the ridiculous amount of seriousness this kid was expending Dean clapped a hand on the angel’s shoulder. “Since you’re supposed to be watching me and observing us lowly humans, why don’t you come hang out for a while?” 

He pointed a thumb behind him where Ben and Errol were kicking a ball back in forth waiting for Dean to come back so they could all go to the park. “It’s a lot easier to understand humans when you actually interact with us.”

After looking at Dean’s hand in bewilderment the kid’s expression quickly melted into quiet eagerness, but he still seemed hesitant. He hedged, “I should not abandon my post.”

“If Cas gives you a hard time just tell him to talk to me.” Dean told him seeming completely unconcerned with the possibility of incurring an angel’s wrath. He gave the kid’s shoulder a squeeze and dropped his hand back to his side. 

The kid looked at Dean a little bit in awe of him now; still he was resistant. “Come on, Alfie. It’ll be fun.” Dean cajoled with a grin. 

Scowling, the angel corrected, “My name is Samandriel.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean said, “Yeah, but it’s weird to have to call a teenager that. Your nametag says Alfie so that’s what I’m going to call you.”

The angel blinked at him, puzzled, “I have explained this. I am a multidimensional being older than the Earth itself.”

“And yet, I’m still calling you Alfie.” Dean repeated. “So, are you coming or what?”

Alfie mulled that over with more seriousness than Dean thought it was worth, but eventually, he nodded. “That would be acceptable.”

“Awesome.” Dean gave him a satisfied smile and made an expansive gestured back to the rec center. “Lead the way my young padawan.”

Of course the reference went straight over his head, but Alfie followed his direction and started off across the street toward Ben and Errol who were watching them now. 

Dean shook his head as he watched the angel go. Why did he always get the nerdy, reject angels? An image of Cas’ absolutely terrified face in the brothel, the memory of him shouting “hey, assbutt!” in the middle of an angel pissing match, and the sight of him downing literally hundreds of burgers flashed through his mind. 

He smiled. So what if he got the nerdy angels that didn’t get pop culture references and had personal space issues. Dean decided that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

*

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Apple Pie Life verse, and the Adventures in Babysitting arc continued in the Sequel: [Dean Winchester, Patron Saint](http://archiveofourown.org/series/147576) .


End file.
